"A champion needs motivation above and beyond winning"

- Pat Riley


Atlas Cian, 18, District Four Male


Darrius and I stroll down the street in the center of the district, where we are as distant from the water as it is possible to be in District Four.

A spider scurries across the pavement. I alter the path of my stride in order to crush it beneath my shoe. I can feel my heart pulsating with enthusiastic anticipation. It is finally time for me to Volunteer for the Games.

As I watch the blood ooze out of the spider's tiny, limp body, I imagine that it is the District Ten tributes who are bleeding out until nothing remains of them but lifeless black specks, while I watch with satisfaction, gloriously responsible for their mutual demise.

District Ten will finally see that they made a huge mistake by never trying to get my family back after my grandparents were transferred to Four where their mathematical talents were needed..

If our family had not been transported to this wretched district two generations ago, I would not be an orphan; my mother might not have gotten sick, and my father certainly would not have drowned, District Ten is blissfully void of the treacherous waters that plague us here in Four. Ten is void of the deceitful sea whose clear, rippling blue waves have enticed nearly everyone in Four. But the sea cannot fool me. I know of its evil waves, and I avoid it whenever possible.

"Atlas!" I can feel Darrius fingers on my hands, attempting to undo the balls of my fists; I did not even realize that I had been clenching them in anger.

"Sorry," I clear my throat. "I was just thinking about District Ten. And District Four. This whole country is just so f-"

"Atlas!" Darrius repeats. "Don't think about that stuff right now, okay? Can't we just be together in the moment? Can't we just enjoy each other's company?"

"No. We can't. That's part of the problem. I can't hold your hand or kiss you in public, because people will judge us. I probably could have lost my position as Volunteer if I came out as gay."

Darrius sighs, and runs a hand across his chiseled jawline. "You don't know that. You don't know what people will think of you coming out until you do it, right? But either way … we'll be openly together once you're a Victor."

"Yeah," I nod. "Once I'm a Victor, other people's opinions won't dictate my life. My opinions will dictate theirs. We'll be able to touch in public ... We'll be able to get married."

With my anger temporarily abated, and the thought of our wedding buzzing through both of our heads, we walk side by side down the road. Physically, we don't touch. Emotionally, we are locked in a tight, unyielding embrace.


Namaka Cresswell, 18, District Four Female


"Are you working today?" I ask Kanaloa casually over a breakfast of tessera bread.

Kanaloa raises an eyebrow at me. "You think I would rather go to work than spend one last day with my little sister?"

"Good point," I grin. "I'm delightful. You should try to spend as much time with me as possible."

Kanaloa chuckles.

"And by the way," I press on. "When I win the Hunger Games, will you finally stop calling me your 'little sister?'"

Kanaloa shakes his head, digging the blade of a knife into his portion of tessera bread. "Nope. Even when you win the Hunger Games, I will continue to call you my little sister, because you are my little sister."

I roll my eyes. "I'm younger by all of six minutes."

Kanaloa nods his head wisely. "Every minute counts. You should remember that sage advice when you're in the Arena."

I shake my head in exasperation, smiling despite myself.

"So … where's our dear mother?" I ask, changing the subject.

"Take a wild guess."

"Drunk? Sleeping?"

Kanaloa nods. "Both I guess? She drank herself into a stupor last night while you were at the Academy for your last training session. She's sleeping it off now."

I grumble angrily into my tessera bread.

Kanaloa clenches his utensils tightly in his fists. "I guess we'll have to go wake her up and get her ready to go before the Reaping."

I exhale sharply. "I suppose so."

Just then, my youngest siblings, Dalia and Maylin bound into the kitchen.

"I'm hungry! I'm hungry!" Dalia screeches, jumping around the room and waving her arms around. "Kanaloa! Namaka! I said I'm hungry! What can I eat? What can I eat? What can I eat?" Her boundless energy gets on my nerves.

I ignore Dalia. Instead, I turn to Maylin and cut off a grayish slice of tessera bread which I slide onto his plate. "This is for you, Maylin," I say kindly.

"Thank you, Namaka," he replies sweetly, pulling out his fisherman action figure to play with at the table; he can't go five minutes without pulling a toy to play with.

Of my two four-year-old siblings, I find Dalia irritating and Maylin quite lovable.

"Where is everyone else?" Dalia taunts me. "Where are Lilybeth and Jarita?" she inquires of two of our other sisters.

"I don't know, Dalia," I say through gritted teeth.

"But Namaka! Where's Mommy? Why isn't Mommy here? Isn't today a special day for you, Namaka? Why didn't Mommy want to wake up early on such a special day? I guess it must not be so special after all …" her high pitched squeak of a voice trails off.

I slam my hands onto the table, springing out of my chair.

"I'll be in my room if anyone needs me," I announce to the room at large, fed up with my mother and Dalia.

"Seriously, Namaka?" Kanaloa asks. "You can't just be with the family right now?"

"No. I can't," I snap. "Kanaloa, eventually you'll have to wake our mother and force her to come to the District Square to witness the most important day of her daughter's life!"

And with that, I toss my silky black hair over my shoulder and strut out of the kitchen with my head held high. I don't look back.


Atlas Cian, 18, District Four Male


I can feel the blood coursing through my veins to the rhythm of my heartbeat. I form two chocolate-colored fists with my hands. This time, I clench them out of excitement rather than anger.

I stand with my fellow eighteen-year-olds, awaiting the start of the Reaping ceremony. I force myself to to exhale calmly. Pretty soon, I will be the Victor of the ninety-fifth annual Hunger Games. They will all look upon me with a mixture of admiration and fear. I will have enough clout to marry Darrius without people questioning my strength because of my sexuality.

Bbefore that, of course, there will be the Games themselves wherein I will finally have my chance to reap my revenge on District Ten, the district that never wanted me or my family … the district whose rejection of my family cost us so much … cost me so much. In the Arena, the District Ten tributes will feel my wrath. I will snap their puny necks from up close or hit them from a long distance with my bow and arrow. I will even flirt with the girl from Ten to make her think she can trust me … I will do whatever it takes to destroy them … to maim them … tomurder them.

The entirety of District Ten will regret ever angering me.

"Um," the escort clears her throat timidly into the microphone. "Um … hi everyone." She twirls a strand of hair around her finger. Her mousy voice is amplified into a high pitched shriek that permeates the Square. "This is my first time doing this," she says with a nervous cough. "I guess I'm really lucky to have gotten a Career district my very first year as an escort." A few people clap lightly. The escort's cheeks are bright red at this point. "My name is Claire Emery, and I will be District Four's escort for the ninety-third annual Hunger Games."

The crowd breaks into a low rumble. I grit my teeth and clench my fists. I can feel my body heating up with anger. This is just my luck! My escort is a bumbling newbie who doesn't even know what year of the Hunger Games we're up to.

One of Four's Victors, Maytal Quay, rising from her chair with a failed attempt at subtlety. She crosses the stage and whispers something in Claire's ear.

Claire looks as though she's about to have a heart attack. She is now twirling her hair so vigorously it looks like she's trying to pull it out. Her face has become such a deep scarlet that it actually calms me down a bit, reminding me of the blood of District Ten's tributes which will soon be on my hands.

Maytal now has an arm around Claire, who seems to be unable to speak. Maytal whispers something else in Claire's ear, and Claire seems to experience a moment's relief; her face lightens a shade.

Staggering away from the microphone, Claire takes Maytal's vacated seat beside our other Victor, Luminessa Clay.

Luminessa gives Claire a kind smile which Claire seems incapable of meeting. In fact, Claire seems incapable of doing anything but staring at her orange-painted toenails and sinking lower and lower into Maytal's chair.

Maytal taps on the microphone to attract the district's attention. "So … I'll be taking over the Reaping ceremony for today. Welcome to the ninety-fifth annual Hunger Games, everyone."

A roar of cheering ensues. Maytal's adoring fans are many in number. Personally, I don't see the hype surrounding her. She didn't even have any good reason to Volunteer for the Games all those years ago. She just did it for the fame and fortune like any number of other Career tributes. It's not as though she had the level of motivation that I possess to kill both tributes from District Ten and return to Four will Darrius and I can marry without judgement.

"Willa Rone," Maytal says clearly into the microphone, having drawn a slip of paper from the female bowl.

I recognize the name; Willa is my age.

"I Volunteer!"

A black haired girl charges up the stairs to the stage. "My name is Namaka Cresswell," she says, before Maytal has a chance to ask. "But you knew that, May," she says loftily, giving Maytal a playful nudge.

"Of course," Maytal tells the crowd. "Namaka is one of our most promising ever trainees."

Namaka beams at Maytal and then at the Square at large.

"Shall we move on?" Maytal suggests, but Namaka holds out an arm to halt Maytal's hand from Reaping the next tribute.

"Not just yet, May," Namaka says slyly, raising her eyebrows. "The show's just begun." In one swift, fluid motion, Namaka pulls off her seafoam green Reaping Day dress to reveal a lacy black bra and matching underwear. She clasps her hands over her head and begins to dance, moving her body seductively in circular motions and arranging her face into an expression of pure lust.

After roughly five minutes of Namaka's performance, Maytal cuts in sharply, "Okay, Namaka. I think it's time for the boys."

Namaka shrugs. "I know what you're thinking, May. You really should have done the boys first, because there is no way that anyone will be able top my dancing. I'm a really tough act to follow, and for that I apologize."

I can feel my fists clenching yet again at the sound of her words. My heart rate is quickening. I audibly emit a low growl, attracting a few stares from people around me. Who does this girl think she is? I can most certainly "follow" her "act."

"Actually," Maytal shifts uncomfortably. "I was thinking that maybe you should put your dress back on."

Namaka shrugs again. "Why would I do that? I've got nothing to hide. And like I said before, there's no way that whichever brutish guy is planning on V-"

"I VOLUNTEER!" I bellow, channeling all of my anger at District Four, District Ten, and now Namaka into those fateful words. I can hear the sound of my voice reverberating throughout the District Square. Shoving people out of my way, I bolt up to the stage and stand with Maytal and Namaka.

Maytal looks at me oddly. "Well, you know honey … traditionally you're supposed to wait for another boy to be Reaped before you Volunteer." She hesitates for a second, considering. "But I suppose that this year's Reaping ceremony has been anything but traditional," her eyes travel over Namaka's half naked body and then flit over to Claire Emery, who is sitting in a heap with her head buried in her lap. "So I guess it's okay?"

"I'M ATLAS CIAN!" I tell District Four, utilizing my booming voice once again and forgoing the microphone.

Namaka and I both look at Maytal expectantly. She hesitates, having momentarily forgotten that she is acting as our escort. Namaka decides to take matters into her own hands. "Happy Hunger Games, District Four!" she calls, to thundering applause. "Your tributes for the ninety-fifth annual Hunger Games are me, Namaka Cresswell," she pauses and waves her hands to encourage applause. "And Atlas Cian." She does not pause after my name to wait for applause. "Atlas, may the odds be ever in your favor. As for me … I don't need the odds to be in my favor. My prodigious skills, stunning appearance, and charming personality will take care of that for me."

Seething with anger, I rack my brains for something to say to win the crowd over for myself, but it's too late; District Four is already chanting Namaka's name in adoration while she waves and blows kisses at her adoring fans.

My eyes seek out my grandmother and little sister, Joy, who is not yet eligible for Reaping. They stand with Darrius, who is already past Reaping age. The three of them wave at me wearing broad smiles on their proud faces.

Namaka may have won the hearts of most of the district, but I know that at least three people are on my side. That's going to have to be enough for me right now, because that's all I've got.


Namaka Cresswell, 18, District Four Female


I am seated on a plush crimson couch wearing my turquoise sequinned dress once again

"Where's my mother?" I demand, injecting shards of ice into my voice and glancing between my family members.

Kanaloa exchanges an uncomfortable look with Rydia and Aunt Cascata. He clears his throat and pauses for a moment, before saying, "I brought her to the Reaping, but she said it would be too painful to come say goodbye to you and that 'losing one person is enough for one lifetime.' I think she went home to drink."

I fold my arms across my chest, exhaling slowly.

"We're here Namaka," says Rydia, squeezing my hand, and we exchange a smile. "Focus on us instead of Mother."

Rydia is my oldest and favorite sister. She has already moved out of the house and lives with her husband and son. Rydia is my mother's only child conceived with her beloved husband who died a few years after Rydia's birth in a boating accident. I think that time skipped our family when it was healing all other wounds, because Mother never got over his death; for over two decades, most of her life has consisted of alcohol, oversleeping, and sex, including prostitution, some of which has resulted in accidental pregnancies that ended up as myself and my siblings.

"Of course, we're here with you, sweetheart," Aunt Cascata agrees. I exchange a smile with her as well, although not as warmly or genuinely as I did with Rydia. I can't help the bitter thoughts that involuntarily creep into my consciousness when I speak with Aunt Cascata; when Kanaloa and I were younger, she told us that she would adopt us and take us away from Mother to live with her instead. Aunt Cascata never kept her word; she left us with her bitter, ever-grieving sister.

One by one, I hug my five younger siblings. My differing feelings towards the five of them are forgotten momentarily; I embrace them all, conveying my deepest affections. They shuffle out of the room in a chaotic jumble; sixteen-year-old Lilybeth is silent and seemingly eager to get on with her day; thirteen-year-old Wylie is grumbling incoherently; nine-year-old Jarita is chattering away with little Dalia; Maylin, holding Lilybeth's hand, keeps glancing back at me on his way out the door. Each time he glances back, we make eye contact, and I give him an encouraging wave and smile.

I am left in the Justice Building goodbye room with Rydia, Aunt Cascata, and Kanaloa. I grasp Rydia's arm and clasp Aunt Cascata's hand. Glancing between them, I say, "I love you both. Thank you for … well, thank you for raising me." My words are primarily aimed at Rydia, and it is her sparkling green eyes that I look into when I speak them.

Together, they wrap their arms around me: Rydia from my left side and Aunt Cascata from the right. Then they exit the room, leaving me alone with Kanaloa.

My brother sits down next to me, and I lean against him. For a few minutes, we sit in silence, each basking in our twin's company for the last time before the Games.

Kanaloa breaks the silence. "I would say good luck, but you made it very clear at the Reaping that you don't need it."

I grin confidently. "And I meant what I said; I have so much skill that luck doesn't even come into play."

Kanaloa nods and gently kisses my forehead. "But in all seriousness, come back to me, Namaka."

"Oh, I'm being totally serious," I say, puffing out my chest. "And when I win, Kanaloa, we'll have a better life: you … me … the whole family." I think of Rydia and Maylin with a warm smile. "Just imagine how wonderful it will be … We can have all the lavish food we've ever dreamed of; no more tessera bread."

He nods. "We'll live in the Victor's Village."

"And we won't have to work anymore to support the family," I finish. "Although I'll probably keep dancing," I say with a devious grin and a shrug of my shoulder, "you know, just for fun."

Kanaloa merely smiles, kisses my forehead one more time, and walks out the door with a goodbye wave.

I will win the ninety-fifth annual Hunger Games. I will win, because I have to win in order to obtain a better life for myself and my family.


And we're cruising into District Four! Haha, sorry bad pun. Although actually, if you're reading this note, you've probably already read the chapter, so it's more like cruising into District Five, which is not a pun at all ... but I digress.

Just to clear up some confusion from last chapter about Ryam that I saw in the reviews: Pexey is his twin sister, and Evie is the twins' best friend. Sorry if I did not make that clear enough in the chapter!

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Please leave a review to let me know what you thought of Atlas and Namaka :D I love hearing your thoughts about the tributes!

I'll see you guys soon with District Five! :D